Royal Blood
by EmberTheUnknown
Summary: One of the remaining Saiyans that escaped the destruction of their home world happened to be none other than Kroppa, Princess of all Saiyans and none other than Vegeta's cowardly and widowed cousin. Ridden with the loss of a mate, and the stress of a child, how will Kroppa fare amongst the chaos that is the Z fighter's lives?
1. Royal Blood - Prologue

_**~Age 761~**_

* * *

The four last Saiyans, to best of Freeza's knowledge, stood before him in humble silence - not one daring to interrupt him during their daily scold and debriefing.

"What do you mean you need more time?" yelled Frieza, who had managed to be moved from his seat. The four flinched expectantly: usually Freeza squared someone's shoulders with his own, it was to measure how large a scorch mark their death would make. He hated mess.

"My Lord," Nappa tried, after turning to Vegeta for permission, "Kroppa has estimated that it would take approximately one hundred and seventeen hours for the four of us to exterminate the inhabitants of Planet Bloom, due its toxic atmosphere and substantial population."

The Saiyan woman, who'd already been cowering at her mention, now was barely able to stand at the sight of Frieza's glare.

His lips curled at the sight of her cowardice. "Is this true, Princess Kroppa?"

Her throat tightened and she stood tall at address; how she hated when he'd address her royal title and not Vegeta's. Surely, it was because he knew how much it angered her cousin and how much she feared them both.

"Well? Is it?!" Frieza repeated.

"Yes, my Lord - I'm afraid so - however, I could attempt a recalculation if need be-" Ever so softly, she felt the tip of Raditz's tail brush against the hairs of her own, now much more loosely wrapped around his torso. Her heart began to slow and she regained her composure. "I will recalculate and report to you at once, the time it'll take for us to complete our mission."

Frieza's face hardened. Not from the intimacy (he hadn't even noticed the twitch of their brown appendages) but from the sudden girth in her voice. It was safe to say that the terror in her eyes whenever he'd address was the number one factor in their survival - where else would he find such unrivalled cowardice?

"You have four days." A double of their last time limit but still not enough. "You are dismissed."

As soon as his back turned to the group, they shot out of the office and towards their chambers - some nervous to the bone, other bitter.

"_Princess_?" Vegeta recalled, lowly.

"I don't know why he doesn't address you as the Prince! I'm sorry!" she cried, throwing her hands up in surrender as Nappa opened their quarter's door and ushered them in.

"It's disgusting! My father reigned supreme as King, you're not even third in line!" he spat.

"I know, okay!" She entered the chambers, second, after Vegeta, and rested her forehead against the coolness of spaceship wall by her corner.

A hand came to rustle and the short mane of thick hair atop her head; by his scent, she recognised the owner as Raditz.

The two had cemented their relationships as mates, not any longer than a decade ago - with the blessing of their Prince. As a last resort of conserving the Saiyan race, they had been ordered to breed in secret, usually in the vacant homes of invaded planets, and were terribly happy to oblige. Not at first, of course, but the order had brought them closer significantly to a point they dared to mimic the rose-tinted couples that they would murder, planet by planet.

Two products of their order existed, on a far away planet - one that Vegeta was confident that wouldn't be threatened - at least till Frieza was long dead by his hand.

Now burdened with product no. 3, Kroppa moved a hand to her stomach and breathed as her mate unlocked his tale and coiled it around her lovingly. She grinned.

"I'm starting to think," she paused to process the weight of her words, "my father made a mistake not leaving me to die with him on Vegeta."

"Don't say things like that, Kroppa!" Raditz spoke. It didn't do much to silence her.

"It's just, I seem to be the root of this teams issues. Me and my absurd calculations, my lack of fighting prowess-"

"You're stronger than me!" Raditz interjected.

"I'm an elite, its hardly the same."

His lips thinned into a scowl, only softening to be pulled into a long kiss by hers truly.

Nappa watched from opposite side of their chambers, grinning at their display. He nudged Vegeta lightly, who appeared to be more than knowledgeable of their affection and refused to pay it anywhere as much attention as his assistant did.

"It's sweet, don't 'ya think?" he whispered, "that they manage to find love amongst the chaos."

"Obnoxious at best," the Prince muttered before deciding that twelve seconds of watching his younger cousin make out with her comrade was enough. "Enough. We heard Freeza, we have four days and four days only. We better start leaving soon before we doom ourselves any further than we already have."

After having to tear himself from Kroppa (a task he always struggled with), Raditz cleared his throat awkwardly before announcing, "before we leave, I feel it would be important to mention that the planet where my brother was sent to, is not too far from here. If anything, this is the closest we've been to it in years."

"Yes... Kakarot," Vegeta hummed, "he's probably weak, being forgotten a measly rock for twenty years."

Raditz deflated, and allowed his tail to thud to the tile floor.

"However, we are spent for time - we'll take what we can get. Raditz, you will collect your brother and meet us on Bloom no later than tomorrow."

"I'll follow him!" Kroppa proclaimed, eagerly.

"You will not!" Vegeta corrected. "You're the one who told Frieza that two days wouldn't be enough time. We're behind schedule so we need to get going and exterminate as many as we can before Kakarot and Raditz join us. You're coming with us."

Seeing no flaw in his logic, and having no spine to point them out regardless, Kroppa obliged with her Prince, and began to ready herself for their journey to Planet Bloom; a floating rock encased in toxic fumes, that the four of them would have to make sure not to breathe in for more than two hours at a time. The constant trips back to their pods to replace Bloomian air with fresh oxygen accounted for a fair portion of Kroppa's estimation and unsettled her the more she thought about it.

'What would Freeze even want with a planet that he could barely inhabit?' she thought to herself, 'oh. Hell. He wants his own personal Hell.'

The time leading to their departure escaped them, and eventually they all stood in front of their pods, ready to leave.

"Save some for me," he chuckled, laying a peck on her cheek.

"Very cute. Have fun with that brother of yours. Make sure he knows he's an uncle."

"Will do," he promised.

Kroppa and Raditz shared one last embrace, before climbing inside their Saiyan pod and closing the lid on a lover's face - one final time.


	2. News of Raditz's Death

**_Basically, I had writers block and couldn't add anything on to What I've Become, and had been playing a lot of Xenoverse and felt oddly bad for Raditz. So now here's my take at a mildly tragic 'Single Mother' view point because I've got some shit to work through._**

* * *

_**~Age 761~ (Raditz is dead.)**_

* * *

"No!" Kroppa's voice trembled the more that she'd use it; the burning sensations of the Bloomian distress vapours in her lungs didn't help at all. Those taken into account now moved her approximations from 117 hours to 12: it appeared that 12 would be all they would last in such atmospheres. "No! No! He can't be dead! He can't be!"

"Quiet down!" Vegeta ordered.

The authority in his voice was as evident as ever, yet it did nothing to menace the mourning mother.

"Take your own advice!" she roared, absent-mindedly ridding the town she marched through of a couple locals. The release had felt good.

"You dare-"

"Yes I dare!" She murdered a couple more with the toppling of a house. It hadn't been as therapeutic. "Yes I_ goddamn_ dare! I dare to tell you to shut up and let me mourn because it wasn't you Vegeta who lost the father of her children. Neither was it you who'd allow me to help him retrieve his brother in case shit like this occurred! This is your fault - his death is on your hands!"

Too taken aback by her retort to respond, he walked off into the opaque fog before them and slaughtered the planet's warriors that attempted to ambush them. As he returned to her and Nappa, with significantly more soiled gloves, he snorted.

"Cry all you want - that weakling got what was coming to him. We're not wasting a wish on him."

Nappa looked between the royals, who both glowered at each other with enough hate to confuse the surviving town locals. They were more than prepared to butt horns, and as much as he craved to spectate, the sourness of his breath reminded him that it had been three hours since their last oxygen hit, and a permanent wheeze would join the three if they didn't respect the atmosphere of the gaseous planet.

"Sires, it's been three hours," he voiced uneasily, already wondering if the blurred corners of his sight had always been there or had just arrived to verify his statement.

"And? What, you can't handle it?!"

Kroppa spat at Vegeta's taunt, and began her trek back to the pods, dragging her white boots along the scorching dust, with her tail dragging against the ground in a fashion that no undoubtedly burnt the fur of the tip clean off. She hadn't minded.

"Do as you wish, Vegeta, you know where to find me."


	3. The Birth Of Another Saiyan

_**~Age 761~**_

* * *

Within no longer than two days, thanks to Kroppa's morose state and Vegeta's ill-contained rage due to their endless bickering, the three had eradicated Planet Bloom of all life and were beginning their hour travel back to Freeza's (second-favourite) spaceship.

Nappa yearned to point out how the lack of Raditz amongst them had caused them to do what they thought had been impossible, but the lifeless look in Kroppa's brown-black Saiyan orbs told him that he knew better.

Without a doubt, Kroppa would trade the effortless slaughter, like knife through butter, their mission had been if it meant that she could splutter and crawl back into the arms of her first love one more time. It burned to think about him, forgotten in a ditch, alone - so she decided not to. The idea of him blown to a million pieces without remains (and along with his brother, Kakarot if she had heard the Earthlings properly) gave her a peace she hadn't known since before they had been assigned to Bloom.

Their plan post-mission had been: update Freeza, travel straight to Earth, collect the Dragon Balls, proceed to grant Vegeta immortality and suffer until the end of their wretched lives with a Vegeta now reigning where a purple imperialist used to be (which somehow sounded worst despite it just being a trade of short men with family issues). It had been a good plan, too, until Kroppa had felt the unmistakable kicking of her third and what she hoped to be her final child.

So, as previously decided, the three began their journey to Planet Day Care (not the planet's official name, but the one they'd agreed to address it as) and made peace with a one year detour because, hey, immortality wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

_**~Age 762~ (6 Months Later)**_

* * *

Sore and ghastly, Kroppa was lifted out of her Saiyan pod by both Nappa and Vegeta - who were still to this day, mildly uncomfortable with the process of dealing was a heavily pregnant Saiyan.

She bit back a groan, knowing she'd earn no pity from her cousin, and resorted to rubbing the bruise-like pain at the bottom of her spine until they would find the man they were looking for.

Flying her out of the crater had been the easiest part, but getting her settle onto her feet - while unfamiliar with the plummet in gravity and weight by abdomen and all around disorientated had been a struggle neither Saiyan had forseen.

To think Raditz had done this with her twice? Perhaps Vegeta would rethink the man's label of 'Absolute Weakling'. Maybe just an 'Embarrassingly Weak Saiyan' would suffice.

Eventually, they had found the Saiyan that they had been looking for - their power level being so close and low to the inhabitants around them that Vegeta struggled to differentiate the two.

"Tarble!" Vegeta called. The man appeared hastily as he was summoned, appearing not have changed since the last time they'd met, to the Saiyan Prince's dismay.

The accommodation Tarble had found had been modest at best. The lounge, where the three sat, appeared to be no bigger than their washroom back on Freeza's ship (which Raditz argued to be decent, but in the eyes of two royals and a high-ranking Saiyan elite, was disgraceful).

"Back again so soon, brother, cousin, Nappa," Tarble greeted, "I'm afraid I'm starting to run out of space to keep the children. They're not so small anymore, you know."

"After this one, you needn't worry anymore. Raditz is dead."

The room fell dead silent, as Kroppa's tone had been heavy enough to even phase the apathy of Vegeta. Said Saiyan Elite, stared expectantly into the face of his brother.

Tarble's eyes darted around the room, something in him wishing that the statement had been some sort of sick joke that murderers like them would pass around their campfires while devouring the remains of a people.

He read no drollery from their faces, and sighed in quiet defeat.

"I'm so sorry, cousin Kroppa," he spoke in feather-light tone.

"Yeah, yeah, so am I - get this thing out of me!"

* * *

Meanwhile, on Earth, the Z Fighters trained in anxious turmoil; all six were gravely sure that each day would be their last, as there had been no date for them to expect the arrivals of the Saiyans.

Driven to a limit she hadn't known existed, Bulma completed day 4 in her lab without sleep for the third time that month. How could she? Knowing that any day, any second, a stronger, faster, more sinister species than she'd ever believed man to be (or whatever Piccolo was) were arriving. No - she couldn't rest until she knew that they were safe, or at least how unsafe.

By dawn of the fifth day of her newest project, (the first day that week she had actually slept) she'd been finished and felt a joy so fierce overtake her, that for a second she'd forgotten about the impending doom inching towards her planet.

"Goku, look - I finished it!" she cheered, mid-twirl around her office to not the spirit of her closest friend, but the exact replica of himthat she saw pump a fist in the air and cheer alongside her.

"Now, you can use the machine to pin-point the location of the Saiyans!" he laughed, "I'll be brought back in no time!"

Her laughter faded as quickly as it came. "Brought back?" she repeated, thoroughly dispirited.

"Yeah, of course, silly." It sounded so much like him. "I'm not actually here. I'm still dead. Hole in the chest, remember?"

She expected his image to wisp away into air, akin to the movies. It never did. Instead, the image of her best friend just sat, mocking her.

She decided that it was time test the new machinery.


	4. Bulma's Breakthrough

_**~Age 762~**_

* * *

Partially due to her newfound caffeine and nicotine addictions, somewhat because of the weight her project results held and thoroughly due to the fact that she had been a steaming mess since she'd caught glimpse of her best friend spread out on meadow floor with a gaping hole in his esophagus, Bulma's hands shook as she started her machine.

It had taken three and a half months in total to complete it: three months to construct, one week to convince herself to build it and another week arguing with her father who'd resulted to physically restraining her from entering her laboratory after a quite premeditated accident. Three lonesome months, but finally, she had created a device that would pin point the exact location and trajectory of foreign spacecraft up above.

The machine buzzed her a greeting before projecting a ray of neon green light into the wall, confirming that it was ready for use. She knelt on the stool she'd attached the rear of the machine, (displeased to find that it had been permanently fixed a foot too low to comfortably see into the visor) clamped her fingers round the handlebars that changed the visor's position -quite alike to how she would a motorcycle handle - and snapped both it, her neck and her wrists up to see into the starred sky above.

The machine worked. Perfectly.

She could see, not only all the vehicles zooming over, around and past her planet in a billion mile radius, but far more than she'd had ever suspected. Who knew that there were a total of three intergalactic bases stationed in such close proximity to Earth? All that had the same retched symbol carved into them: a circle with two horns sticking either side of it.

Apparently, imperialism was no longer limited to Red Ribbon Armies and Demon Kings. How comforting.

She leaned the visor left. Nothing important. She leaned it right. Even less flying objects of importance, until she'd heard the blinking on her side monitor - the one she had programmed for emergencies.

It read 'incoming'. She slammed face back into the eye view and fixed her equipment so it showed her exactly what it had on her monitor. There were a three circular pods, determinedly racing through the stars. Her computer screen mentioned that the ships were a comforting distance away - 800 million miles away actually - yet were aiming directly for Planet Earth as she sat.

She'd found them, the Saiyans.

"You did it!" Fake Goku cheered in the corner. She payed him no mind. "You found the Saiyans!"

'800 million miles,' she pondered, 'what does that mean to us?'

After a minute of punching buttons that she'd forgotten she'd added, the answer was as clear as day.

6 months. They had less than six months left to finish preparing for the Saiyans; as on July 3rd, the Z-Fighters would be caught in the literal battle of their lives, protecting their precious planet against the remainder of a species that had been genetically predated to fight, defeat and slaughter.

"You don't look happy, Bulma. Aren't you glad that you finally found them? Now you don't have to bite 'ya nails wond'ring where they are!"

"Oh, Goku," she sighed, pulling herself from the visor, "you always managed to find a way to look on the bright side, didn't you?"

She shifted herself so both legs were on one side of the stool, and she could look into the large, youthful eyes of an old friend's ghost. "I'll do everything I can to help you out," she declared, "I won't let the guys be the only ones working themselves to hell and back - I'm in this too!"

"Glad to hear it, Briefs," he said, with twice as much zeal as she'd had, "let's go kick some Saiyan butt!"

* * *

As for Gohan, he had long completed the month in the wilderness Piccolo had assigned him (without a precise due date, they couldn't afford to waste time honing Gohan's survival skills - no, that would just have to develop alongside their training.

Progressively, Gohan managed to keep up with fractions of Piccolo's strength, only for Piccolo to higher his target and leave the boy in a static performance of a horse and a carrot.

An upside to this shortened period of solitude was that Gohan learned offensive skills much quicker than if Piccolo had been offered a year to train the runt; then he would have surely designated a good six months to the boy's growing independence. A downside to this shortened period was that Gohan cried, a lot.

The memory of his father's battle was still fresh in Gohan's mind, as no was time allowed for the five year old to lick his wounds - and the very mention of his father sent the boy into a wailing anguish.

At first, it had been useful (and quite honestly for Piccolo, satisfying) to rile the toddler up by badmouthing his father. The flare of ki Gohan emitted, successively surprised his teacher as he grew in his training. However, the sobbing mess Gohan would be left as reminded Piccolo why he'd opted to isolate him in the wild for six months in the first place, and caused him to reconsider if were too late to continue his original plan.

As the sun lowered into the mountains, Gohan's training ceased and he was to begin his one hour of leisure that the two had negotiated. (Or in other terms, Piccolo promised in return of the five years old's silence).

The child swung from branches peacefully, while Piccolo attempted to meditate a comfortable distance away from his student.

Suddenly, both fighters tensed.

Something far too reflective to be a bird, and far too quick to be a dinosaur arose in front of the sun and on it's towards the two. Its metallic armour glistened in the moonlight.

"Gohan, stay back," Piccolo ordered, noticing the half-Saiyan that had perked up beside him in the midst of their worries. The child posed no refusal and jumped back, fretting behind his master's cloak.

'I don't sense a strong opponent. Damn it, the Saiyans most likely know how to suppress their energy. There goes that plan,' Piccolo worried to himself.

After no more than a minute, the flying object set itself in front of them, lifting a level of wasteland dust as it did so. Nothing happened.

"Show yourself!" demanded the Namekian, "before I destroy you where you are!"

And so, the owner of the craft did just that, opening her jet craft door and sauntering down its steps until ankle high boots met desert sand.

"Thanks for the warm welcoming, Piccolo," Bulma greeted dryly, "I truly appreciate the threatening ultimatum."

"What do you want?" he groaned, ridding his body of the rest of its fear in one discourteous spit. Gohan side stepped from behind him. "I'll have you know we're working on a tight schedule - the Saiyans could be here any moment and we can't afford to-"

"That's why I'm here, hard ass!" She noticed the still cowering five year old boy beside Piccolo and made an effort to contain the profanities. "I've been working my butt of in my lab for the past months, and managed to pinpoint the exact location and arrival time of the Saiyans. They'll be here in five months and twenty six days."

"What-"

"It would have been twenty eight, but it took me a whole two days to find you two. The middle of the desert, Piccolo - really?" she interrupted.

A low growl escaped his throat and he snapped. "You can leave now! You've delivered your message, now leave us be."

Bulma met his glare with one almost as fierce and she pulled something from out of her pocket and tossed it over to him. Sceptically, he allowed it to fall into his palm.

"It's a pager," she explained, "so I don't have to fly all the out here again if I got'ta tell you something important. Try not to break it, it's state-of-the-art."

He mumbled something to himself unintelligible before dismissing her with his signature 'tch' and the facing of his back to her. Not that he noticed, but she returned one of her own.

"So, Gohan - I hope he hasn't been too tough on you," the scientist began.

"We're busy, go home!" Piccolo boomed.

"Rude!" she whined, before marching back to her copter. Right before she entered, she offered the two one, last, wishful look. "Good luck, Gohan."

"Buh-bye, ma'am," the child replied uneasily, as he ran off to join his teacher.

'Try not kill him, Demon King. I know a Saiyan who won't be too happy 'bout that.'


End file.
